


Say A Little Prayer

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Rick, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Top Daryl, Virgin Daryl, holy oil makes a nice lube, probably going to hell, rick looks like jesus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Rickylchat Writer's Group assignment.  I'm writing with a religious theme.  Not much to summarize.  Daryl thinks Rick looks like Jesus, then he fucks him.  It's really that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say A Little Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't been in the Rickylchat Writer's Group yet... please join us! We love new people!
> 
> This is unbeta'd because my beta reader is working on the same homework assignment!
> 
> Warning to religious folks- You may want to skip this one. It's gonna be blasphemous.

They'd been staying at a small church tucked away in the woods, trying to give themselves time to recuperate from the Termites. Daryl watched as Rick stood before the giant crucifix at the alter. His head cocked up at it, deep in thought with Judith quiet in his arms.

Daryl let his gaze trail up the crucifix as well, and if he blinked too quickly, the image of Jesus almost looked like Rick. Dirty, injured, long hair and an unkempt beard, skinny. Rick was getting too damn skinny. And like the statue, Rick was always in that pose, offering himself up for the safety of others. Giving himself. 

The only two inside at the moment, Daryl walked slowly up the center aisle and stood silent beside the man he'd give and do anything for. His Jesus.

"Kinda looks like you," Daryl said in a hushed church voice. Rick snorted with a soft laugh. The archer continued to blink quickly at the statue before him, seeing Rick in it, then Jesus, then Rick. Judith gurgled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty church and she reached for Daryl. He took her without words, Rick's eyes still not leaving the statue.

"You believe in any of this shit?" Rick asked.

Daryl looked from Jesus to Rick. "I believe in what I can see." After a few minutes of quiet with Judith nodding off to sleep in the archer's arms and both men still standing before the alter, Daryl added "This is why he sacrificed himself? So we could live like this? Fucking walkers and all a' us dyin' grizzly deaths? Dying on a cross don't seem like shit compared to having your entrails ripped out while you watch, with the last thought in your mind knowin' that you'll end up one of 'em, your mortal body trying to kill everyone you ever loved."

"So that's a no?" Rick grinned, eyes still transfixed. "You don't believe?"

"I believe in you. Ain't followin' no dead guy too damn dumb to fight."

Rick finally tore his eyes from the statue and settled them on Daryl. The archer shivered a bit at the intensity of those blue eyes invading his own. There had been something growing between them. Not a bad something. A kind of thing Daryl couldn't figure out words for until Glenn joked about sexual tension. And Daryl knew instantly that was it. He didn't know much about sex, but he could feel the buzzing in his veins when Rick was close. The goosebumps. The excitement in his belly when Rick would linger a touch on his skin. And in the more recent nights, huddled together in sleep, Daryl's body started reacting, his cock growing hard as they lay tight for warmth. 

Just the night before, Daryl felt Rick responding the same way. He was behind Daryl, pressed tight to his back to suckle body heat from him in the cool autumn evening. And Daryl felt him growing hard and stiff against his ass. If they hadn't been surrounded by the others, Daryl would have liked to move against it. Feel it rubbing hard up and down against his back side.

Rick looked around the empty church. "Everyone good outside?" he asked, checking on his disciples. Daryl nodded. "Nice day. No one wants to be inside," he responded, hoping to get the point across that they were alone. Would be alone.

The leader nodded and swallowed hard. "Haven't been sleeping great. Thinking about grabbing a nap in the room back there," he said tossing his thumb over his shoulder as he motioned to the sacristy.

"Lil' girl is in for a nap," Daryl said as he pressed his lips to her fine, baby-soft hair.

"You haven't been sleeping good either," Rick said his eyes finally moving away from Daryl's to dip down to his lips and quickly back up. "You could use some down time too." It wasn't a question and it wasn't an order. It was words from Rick Grimes and the archer took those as scripture. Daryl nodded and followed Rick, wordless, to the room behind the alter. He always followed Rick. Rick was his faith. His religion. The light. The alpha and omega, beginning and end.

With the door pulled shut behind them, Daryl put Judith down on a pile of linens on the floor and adjusted them around her, snug. She was an extension of Rick and looked like the Jesus from nativity scenes the way the linens circled her like straw from the manger.

Daryl turned, still on his knees to look up at Rick. And it felt right. To be on his knees before his savior. Before the man he'd sacrifice his own life for without batting an eye. Without the whisper of hesitation. Daryl looked up at Rick above him and felt like praying. What were prayers but begging. Begging and thanks afterwards. And Daryl was not beyond begging. Pleading. He wanted Rick’s hands on him. Anything. Just a touch to his elbow or the leader’s hand, gentle against the small of his back. He begged in silent prayer, ‘Rick, please touch me.’ And he licked his lips and opened his mouth and said it out loud. “Rick, please touch me.” 

Daryl’s voice was soft and small. He felt small. Felt small before Rick. Kneeling before this man who had led them and cared for them and saved them. Rick reached out a hand for Daryl and the rays of sun that came in through the window and lit up the wall behind him made him look even more Christ-like than he already did. Daryl wanted to paint him. Worship him. Hold him. Lick him, fuck, he wanted everything. He took Rick’s hand and stood. Rick looked at the archer, eyes moving gracefully from Daryl’s gaze to his lips, then slowly following the lines of his body down to his feet and back up. Neither used words. 

Rick backed up and opened a closet door. He reached in and pulled several robes off hangers and tossed them to the ground, making a nest for them. Daryl kept his eyes lowered on the bed of robes that he hoped and prayed would be the bed he’d lose his virginity in. Rick put a hand on Daryl’s cheek and rubbed softly with his thumb. “Is it ok if I kiss you, Daryl?” 

“You can have anything from me. I’m yours.” Words like these felt foreign to Daryl. Lovers words. Emotional words. They were not words for Dixons. But he didn’t want to be a Dixon anymore. He wanted to be Rick’s. Just Rick’s. And the leader leaned in and slowly pressed his lips to the archer. Soft. Dry. Shaking just the slightest bit. And Daryl let his lips part like the red sea, allowing safe passage for Rick’s tongue. Encouraging it. Praying for it. And Rick answered his prayers, tasting him. Licking into his warm, open mouth and groaning in pleasure from what he found there. 

And their mouths worked together like the sounds of organ music and pious Sunday morning voices. As they parted for breath, lips still close, breathing each other’s air, Rick whispered, “I want you. Want you to take my body. Want you to have me.” Daryl was already hard from the taste of Rick’s tongue, but these words. These words were going to make him explode. 

 

“That how you want it?” Daryl whispered, already starting to unbutton Rick’s shirt. 

“Yes.” It was a simple answer, but it was everything. Like a summary of the bible whittled down into one single three-letter word- Yes. They quietly undressed each other, fumbling with belts and knives and buttons. Once both were bare, they pressed themselves together, their full bodies touching from toes to mouths. Rick was warm against Daryl’s damp skin. His body was both soft and hard at the same time. The soft sounds the leader made as they kissed were a song that Daryl would replay in his head for the rest of his life. His new favorite sound. Better than motorcycle engines or the chirp of a wood thrush or the rustle of leaves in the wind.

They were hard against each other and both were growing impatient, though neither knew the process for having sex with another man. Daryl started imagining it in his mind, trying to get in front of it. He reached past Rick and opened the closet door as he kept his lips tight to Ricks. On their next break for breath Daryl moved things aside, candles falling to the floor, and pulled out a vial of holy oil from a shelf.

“This oughta work for, like, lube, right?” he murmured before he took Rick’s swollen bottom lip back into his mouth. Rick nodded with their lips still attached and moved them to the floor. The leader lay on this back, spreading his legs for his archer. Daryl raked eyes over Rick and landed at his cock, hard and purple. Thick. He bent down and licked from the base to the tip and Rick groaned deep in his throat. Daryl looked up to see Rick watching him and he took the leader’s cock into his mouth and explored it with his tongue. 

“Yes…” Rick moaned as he watched Daryl moving his lips up and down, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked greedily at pre-cum. The word “Yes” from Rick’s kiss-swollen lips was like confession. It meant yes and more and want and need. Rick’s hips rocked back and forth as Daryl drank him in, tasting the saltiness of more pre-cum dribbling onto his tongue. Rick’s fingers snaked into the Archer’s hair and halted him. 

“Fuck me. I’m dying from want, Daryl. Want you to take my body. Have me.” Daryl’s pupils blew even wider at the sound of Rick’s pleas. He sat up and wiped the spit from his lips with the back of his arm. The holy oil spilled out of the bottle quicker than he’d expected and it covered his fingers, dripped down to his cock and dampened the robes below them. 

Daryl put a steady hand on Rick’s hip and massaged a finger against his entrance. “Yes…” Rick moaned again. And Daryl pressed in, his heart jumping at the gasping intake of breath from Rick. The leader’s hands fisted into robes and his breath grew rapid. Daryl circled his finger and then slowly added a second. He moved them inside, stretching Rick and feeling how tight and warm it was inside him. “Now…” Rick groaned.

Daryl pulled his fingers out and stroked his cock a few times, coating the holy oil from base to tip. He looked down at Rick and he looked like heaven. Daryl took Rick’s hands in his and moved them, outstretched, encouraging one to grab onto a table leg and the other to press against the closet door. And there was Rick- naked on the floor, arms spread christ-like, open and stretched and desperate for Daryl to take him. “Like that,” the archer said once his arms were positioned. Rick nodded.

With one hand on Rick’s hip and the other guiding Daryl’s cock, the archer slowly slipped into the tightest warmest place his dick has ever been. Better than his hand. Better than grinding against a pillow. And he felt like he was one with Rick as he bottomed out. Connected. Part of each other. One with each other. 

“Jesus,” Daryl whispered. “‘S warm. Tight.”

“Fuck me,” Rick whimpered again, his chest pressed out from the position of his arms. God, he looked beautiful. Like the whole world should bow down before him. Should surrender themselves to him. Should give him whatever he wants. Let him take what he offers to take. And as Daryl moved he felt forgiven and cleansed. He felt like heaven. Daryl’s eyes did not leave Rick’s body. They travelled along every spot. Watching the way his eyes squinted shut. The way his breath rose and fell in his chest. The blood from an earlier walker kill dried into this hands with stains dripping down his wrists like the stigmata.

Daryl felt it coming. The amen moment. And he grabbed Rick’s cock in his hand and matched the movements of his hips with the stroke of his hand. “Come with me, Rick. God.” And they came as Daryl murmured “Jesus, Rick. Jesus Christ,” and his head rang with the sounds of a thousand hallelujahs as his cock pulsed inside Rick and Rick spilled onto his own stomach.

Exhausted they lay beside each other, breaths finally slowing. Daryl stood first and looked at a smaller crucifix that was nailed to the wall and then back down to Rick, who still had his arms mostly spread and his feet together. Naked and sweat-soaked. “Well, this is the first time I’ve been to church in years. Prayer thing seems to work. Maybe there’s something to this shit after all?” he smirked.

**Author's Note:**

> This probably could have been better but I had a due date and all I had to do was post it to get the "A"! :-) 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts... even if it's just "You are going to hell" or "This shit sucks".


End file.
